


Aftermath

by RedFox13



Category: Dark Souls, Dark Souls I
Genre: Closure, Grief/Mourning, M/M, OC is not mine, One Shot, Short Story, The feels are real, Used with permission, a fic about a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFox13/pseuds/RedFox13
Summary: Tempest performs an act of kindness to a fallen enemy.
Relationships: Dragonslayer Ornstein/ Chosen Undead, Dragonslayer Ornstein/ Executioner Smough
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsLittletall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsLittletall/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Storm is coming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603610) by [MrsLittletall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsLittletall/pseuds/MrsLittletall). 



> this fic is based off of A Storm is Coming by MrsLittletall. Credit goes to her for Tempest and her wonderful story. This was written with the storyline in mind. Please check out some of her other works posted on here.

Ornstein woke mid snore because something was in his mouth. On closer inspection it was revealed to be a piece of his hair because his hair tie had broken during all his restless tossing and turning. He sighed as he brushed a curtain of red bangs from his face and climbed out of bed. He had at least a dozen more hair ties sitting on his dresser. As he fixed it back it occurred to him that he really needed a drink. The inside of his mouth was as dry as sandpaper.

He frowned as he glanced at the empty jar on his bedside table, looks like he would have to make a trip to the kitchen. He rolled up the sleeves of his baggy blue shirt and grabbed the jar. He was wearing one of Smough’s shirts, partly hoping it would help him sleep better. And he might’ve put off doing his laundry….again. He could almost hear his boyfriend gently chastising him for being so lazy while hauling his clothes basket away to be cleaned.

he missed Smough terribly, he had never gotten the chance to say goodbye. As he filled the jar from a pitcher in the kitchen he heard someone walking by. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the Little Storm shuffling by with his arms full of something. Ornstein raised an eyebrow, what is he up to? Leaving the jar behind he walked along behind him, his footsteps silent against the cold stone floor. Ornstein followed the mischievous Undead through several corridors until he came to the palace vegetable garden.

What in the name of Gwyn is the Little Storm doing? Ornstein thought as he stood in the doorway watching him go to the furthest corner of the garden. He was just about to approach him when a gentle hand on his shoulder made him nearly jump out of his skin. “Ornstein? Is something wrong?” It was Gwynddolin, what were they doing up so late? Ornstein turned around to see them in a dark purple robe and an eye mask sitting crookedly over their eyes. “Oh! No, everything is fine. You’re up late, couldn’t sleep either?” Ornstein replied quietly as he tried to get his frantically pounding heart to settle down.

“I went to fetch some water for my morning tea.” They said with a yawn, then their eyes wandered down and their face colored pink. “Ornstein, it is perfectly acceptable to walk about the cathedral. But can you please be decent while doing so?” It was then Ornstein looked down and his face turned as red as his hair. He had forgotten that he wasn’t wearing anything under his nightshirt, and the moonlight cast a silhouette that left little to the imagination.

“Gwyndolin I am so sorry! Forgive me for being so crude.” He said as he swiftly retreated back to his room. He cursed himself as he tugged on his trousers and an orange tunic he pulled from his basket. These were still wearable and didn’t smell like they had been drug through the catacombs. By then he was fully awake and sleep was just not going to happen. So he sat on his bed and waited until he was sure Gwyndolin had gone back to their chambers.

…………………………..

Tempest looked over his shoulder for a moment. He thought he had heard someone talking, but no one was there. He shrugged as he turned his focus back to his work. It had taken him several trips to get everything set up, all the while his guilt kept quietly nagging at him. He felt horrible for killing Smough, if he had known that he and Ornstein were a couple he never would’ve dealt that last blow.

It bothered him even more so to know that he’d never gotten a proper farewell after his death. So he quietly decided to do something about it. He found a large flat slab of stone in the back of the vegetable garden and placed a decorative jar with a lid on it and a few items around it. There was only one thing missing, reaching into his darksign he pulled out the soul of the executioner. He had nearly forgotten that he’d had it, and now that he knew him as so much more than a hammer wielding brute, he couldn’t bring himself to use it. Placing the soul into the jar he put the lid on it and lit a votive candle he borrowed from the cathedral. He knelt reverently before the makeshift grave and bowed his head in prayer.

“Hello Smough. I’m Tempest. I’m not sure if you can hear me from where you are, or even if you want to hear me. But I want you to know that I’m so sorry… I didn’t know about you and Ornstein… I don’t deserve it, but do you think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?” He started in a whisper. “I’m sorry I hurt Ornstein so badly during our battle. I’m pretty sure he still hates me for killing you.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his head nervously.

“This is so weird to tell you, but I ended up falling for him, like really hard. I know he doesn’t feel the same, but honestly I’m okay with that. And after he lost everyone that he ever loved I wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to get close to anyone. I wish I could undo what I’ve done, but I can’t. The best I can do is make sure you rest peacefully.” He smiled. After a few minutes he shook his head.

“Ornstein is such a mess. I caught him eating toast with horseradish and orange marmalade this morning. How you could stand there and endure such torture is beyond me. I know you used to love cooking for him, and i’d probably never be quite as good. But I promise, as long as I’m with him I’ll take good care of him and make sure he never goes hungry. I’ll put my heart into everything I cook for him, because I know you would’ve too. He looked up with a big smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

He felt much better after that, he could almost imagine the jolly executioner smiling and nodding approvingly of his actions. With his prayers finished he stood and went back inside, it was just after midnight and he felt like he could sleep for once. Besides he would need the rest for his training with Ornstein later.

………………….

By the time Ornstein had returned to the garden Tempest had already left. A gentle flicker of flame guided him to the back garden wall. On a flat slab of stone surrounded by wild basil he found a small white jar decorated with daises and marigolds. Next to it was a bundle of fresh herbs from Smough’s greenhouse, a well used wooden spoon, and an unopened bottle of bone dust. Kneeling he snuffed out the candle that had been left burning. “What was Little Storm thinking? Leaving a lit candle where it could start a fire!” Ornstein scowled at the mention of fire, that was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

His gaze fell to the jar, out of curiosity he opened the lid and reached inside. His jaw hit the ground as he pulled out the soul that was sitting inside. “...Smough…” He whispered. He had no idea the Little Storm still had it with him. As he stared at the shiny yellow soul sitting in his hand he realized what Tempest had done. He had made a makeshift grave for the executioner and left behind some things he liked.

Ornstein brought a hand to his mouth as his eyes glistened with unshed tears. He was deeply touched by Tempest’s act of kindness. He could’ve used his soul to make himself stronger, but instead he chose to let him rest in peace. Placing the soul back and returning the lid he assumed a prayer stance. As he said a silent farewell to his boyfriend he ws struck by a strange sensation. He swore he felt Smough wrapping his arms around him in a gentle embrace. A voice whispered quietly to him, “Take care kitten. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He whispered back. He sat quietly there for some time before heading back inside. He needed to get ready for the day and Little Storm was going to have a long training session ahead of him.


End file.
